


Kill Your Darlings

by guccibucci



Category: Repo! The Genetic Opera (2008)
Genre: F/M, Other, THE FACT THAT THAT TAG ABOUT THE UNNAMED LADY EXISTS, but also the pavi tag is rampant with degenerates so i offer this instead, but because it’s canon that pavi steals women’s faces im not using different relationship tags, but never finished it until now at 4 am so pls leave a comment if u like, i started writing this back in nov last year when i rewatched it and was hyperfixating, i wanted to write for graverobber and miss sweet hhhhhhhhh they exude bi energy, maybe if i have the motivation and energy i’ll write more for this fandom, ok but as a disclaimer my reader is gender neutral bc i am, this is just self indulgent schlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:22:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28283124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/guccibucci/pseuds/guccibucci
Summary: You’re dating Pavi and he’s every bit the lady killer he says he is, so don’t be surprised when he proves it.
Relationships: Genterns/Pavi Largo, Pavi Largo/Reader
Kudos: 2





	Kill Your Darlings

You'd been "dating" Pavi for a couple of weeks, though its privileges were limited to attending events hanging on his arm in lieu of an entourage of Genterns and occasionally spending the night, alone, with Pavi. Things moved at exactly the pace you expected; sex after your first dinner together and every night then on that you'd attended public functions as his escort. What you hadn't expected was the constant lingering of Genterns around him. Pavi was keen on all the attention, but you were much less enamored by their wanton behavior. 

From the beginning, you felt relegated to second-class citizen; you hadn’t even the chance to sit by Pavi in the limos destined for whatever extravagant event he had lined up for the two of you. No, instead you got to watch as he popped bottles of expensive champagne and groped gorgeous masked women that clung to his every word, and limb. It was getting exhausting vying for his attention, and failing each time.

Now, you weren’t completely naive. You knew Pavi was beautiful, vain, and a self-confessed lady killer, but you hadn't expected to fall so deep for him. You only meant to dangle on his arm to exploit yourself for fame, then leave once your name had been plastered on every major news outlet. But, as it happened, you weren't immune to The Pavi and his charms - that awfully insincere Italian accent that lavished you with praise, his meticulously curated wardrobe of outfits that hugged his lithe figure, and the way his hands knew just where to caress, pinch, or grab you. 

But, you also knew it was pointless to outwardly express your jealousy of his very many favorite Genterns. After all, they were his employees. They had to be around him, ready to provide adequate "distractions" at any moment he might decide to go under the knife. But _you_? You were _special_. Pavi had to call for you to show up or send for you to be picked up. You were the one person whose affection Pavi had to work for. At least, this is what you told yourself when you spent too much time drowning in negative thoughts. You were all too aware that “work” for Pavi constituted as anything that required he put his mirror down for more than five seconds. And yet, five seconds of Pavi's undivided attention was like a high that you couldn't be weaned off of. You needed him as much as he needed fresh faces.

Which made your current predicament a sick twist of fate. The night rolled on as usual; you had dutifully sat through another charity function by Pavi's side, dined (but really only wined), played around on the limo ride back to his place, and were sharing drunken kisses in his chamber when you felt something cold - very cold - run down your arm.

Your eyes widened at the sudden contact. He held a scalpel against your skin. Its blade clean and sharp. Pavi wore a wide grin, on his real face. This was the happiest you'd ever seen him. 

That's when he made the first cut. A small nick on your upper arm. Crimson drops of blood ran down your elbow onto the ivory silk sheets beneath you. You tried to pry him off you or wiggle out of his grasp, but he was determined to mark you up. You let out feeble cries begging him to stop. And, he did.

"Don't you want to be the Pavi's?" his tone was laced with confusion.

“Not like this.” Pure terror gripped you. You wondered if you’d meet the same fate as all those poor women before you that must’ve been seduced by him; only to be carved up, disposed of, and forgotten. 

“Dolcezza, there’s no other way. Now, behave. Or, I’ll have to bring Luigi,” all this he said the while gesticulating wildly with the scalpel mere inches from your décolletage. And with the threat of the Largo sadist at Pavi’s side, you obeyed. 

It was strange. There was a romantic aspect to the whole process of Pavi’s stealing faces for himself - to capture the utmost beauty at its peak and claim it for himself, the precision of his cuts, the delicacy of his hands removing flesh. It was morbidly resplendent and serene. 

You figure you only felt this way because the blood loss was starting to make you feel light and airy, numbness having set in minutes ago.   
  
Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad when this was all over. To be commemorated forever in photos by Pavi’s side at lavish parties. And, eventually, on his face. He’d wear it well.

Before he removed the the entirety of your fragile face, he fondly gazed at you, tilting his head to and fro. To be so deeply admired by him was everything to you in that moment. It made it worth it. It transformed his mutilation of you into an act of devotion. He mangled you because you could never be your full potential. But Pavi, he would make you shine like no other. You would be more radiant than ever before.

The last thing you saw was him remove the clips holding his now decrepit mask, and the scarred skin of his own. Then, his bloody hands reached to the upper corners of your forehead and everything went black. 

  
You woke up beady with sweat and gasping for air. Darkness enveloped you. But, it was a familiar darkness. You were in one of many of Pavi’s private rooms. You made your way to a window and pulled back the curtain just enough to let a sliver of moonlight through. 

As you attempted to catch your breath and reflect on what transpired in the worst of nightmares, you saw it. A glint of metal. Coming from your lover, undisturbed by your dramatic awakening. 

That night, you discovered Pavi always sleeps with a scalpel close by.

Perhaps, it wasn’t a dream at all, but a warning of what was to come. You just hoped you’d have the guts to leave him before he consumed you. 


End file.
